


You Can Be Great (And So Can I, Maybe)

by Sneakyfox55



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Autistic Papyrus (Undertale), Backstory, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Favoritism, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Papyrus (Undertale) Knows More Than He Lets On, Papyrus (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Papyrus (Undertale)-centric, Parent W. D. Gaster, References to Depression, Sans is a good brother, Self-Esteem Issues, W. D. Gaster Being A Jerk, Younger Brother Papyrus (Undertale), at least to Papyrus, slight child neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneakyfox55/pseuds/Sneakyfox55
Summary: Papyrus believes in everyone....The word "everyone" doesn't include himself, it seems.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale) & Everyone, W. D. Gaster & Papyrus & Sans
Comments: 41
Kudos: 98





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> i've had a bit of writer's block so i wanted to start yet again another fresh story with these guys to pass the time, if that makes sense
> 
> i have also technically never written an Autistic Papyrus before but it's a headcanon i've kind of grown to really like, and i wanted to take my own spin on it. i hope i portray it well i guess? (if i don't RIP me because i'm on the spectrum myself--)
> 
> i again have no idea how long this will be, it really just depends on how inspired i get as we go on, haha
> 
> hope you like it!

One night, Gaster left with Sans, and didn't tell Papyrus.

Granted, Papyrus knew that they usually went to the lab together: they both liked sciencey-things, as well as experimenting, and working in the lab was one of their favorite things to do.

He had no real reason to be upset. No real reason to panic.

And yet...

He kept glancing at the clock, every minute or so, almost hoping the time would go faster. He didn’t like being alone. He never liked being alone. It was too quiet. There wasn’t enough going on, with nobody else around.

He hugged his legs close, tightly against his chest, trying to keep the tears back.

Crying would solve nothing. It was stupid. There was no reason to cry.

He just needed to wait. They’d come back.

...

Five minutes passed. No sign of his brother or father.

A couple of tears slipped out of his eyesockets. He couldn’t control those ones, but he tried desperately to keep the rest at bay.

They’d be home any minute. They couldn’t see him cry. He’d look so dumb, sitting there in what was practically an upright fetal position. He didn’t want pity, either. He was stronger than this. He’d just turned eight years old, for crying out loud! (Pun definitely not intended!!)

He could handle this!

...

Twenty more minutes, and the door finally creaked open; it took everything in him to stop his shaking, still biting back a couple of pitiful sobs, even as he saw them walk into the house.

_It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s..._

Papyrus forced a smile as he saw his brother start to come over, hoping Sans would let his guard down this one time enough not to realize he was faking. “H-hello, brother!” He pretended he hadn’t just stammered out his words, nor that his voice had cracked. “I see you’re back! Clearly!!” Geez, could he be any more obvious that he wasn’t fine?

“...Uh, yeah.” Sans’s grin was just as unconvincing. Great. “Is, uh... Everything o—”

“YES”

Papyrus practically choked—and once again willed a sudden barrage of new tears away. “I mean, yes!” He dodged Sans moving forwards, likely to comfort him; he needed no comfort. He was absolutely, 100% fine, most certainly. He cleared his throat (hopefully he cleared it enough to talk normally, without sounding awful), and went on (definitely not forcing himself to say this), “I knew you’d both be back, of course; I was just... Thinking.”

“...Thinking,” Sans echoed, raising a bonebrow.

“Thinking! About!” He coughed again, as his voice cracked, again. “Going to bed obviously!”

“Uh huh,” his brother said, most definitely sarcastically, and Papyrus narrowed his sockets at him, trying to distract his eyes.

“I’m serious!”

“’kay.”

Huffing, the younger turned his head, burying his chin in between his knees. “Well.” He hesitated. “C... Can you at least read to me?”

He could practically see the confusion in Sans’s voice as he responded, “What? I thought Dad used to do that?”

“Yeah...”

“...So?”

“But he’s been busy lately. You’re not busy at all.”

Sans snorted, seeming not particularly offended. “Fine. But don’t expect me to make it a full-time thing or nothin’.”

Papyrus rolled his eyes, the lump in his throat fading, as he no longer felt the need to be lonesome.

“...That was the cheesiest damn story I’ve ever seen, why do you like it?”

Pulling the covers up tighter around him, Papyrus glared at his brother, who was still flipping through the pages of Fluffy Bunny by the bookshelf. “Language! And also it’s not cheesy, thank you very much, you just don’t understand the meaning behind it like I do!”

Sans looked back at him, deadpanning. “It’s a children’s book, what meaning is there?”

“For one—”

“Rhetorical question, Pap.”

“ _Fine_!”

He plopped down into his bed abruptly with his back facing Sans, yanking the blanket over his head with an indignant sigh. What followed his dramatic show was silence, and for a moment he was afraid he’d scared Sans off, somehow—until the blanket was thrown off of him, his older brother almost hovering over him.

“Hey.” His voice was surprisingly soft; almost concerned. “That... You’re not actually upset, are you?”

He wasn’t, entirely. It stung a little, but he knew he’d been joking. “No. You’re just very annoying,” he replied with as much conviction as he had in him, and much to his relief, his reward was Sans’s laughter.

“Pfft, thanks, love you too.”

“...”

“...Pap?”

“I...” He couldn’t say it, for some reason. It was too hard. “...Good night, Sans.”

Thankfully, his brother didn’t seem too torn up about it (on the surface), and rubbed the top of Papyrus’s head like he was ruffling nonexistent hair, making him let out a small squeak. “Night, bro.”

Papyrus shut his eyes, waiting some time after the light had clicked off before lifting his head to peek at the door to see if Sans had already slipped out: he had, and for the next few minutes Papyrus would glance towards the door, peeking at the light under it, wondering when it would go off.

It soon did shut off, but...

The door didn’t open again.


	2. Just Overthinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the support on the last one, it means a lot!!
> 
> and sorry this one's so short; i'll try to work on the next as soon as i can!

Papyrus didn’t know what was wrong with him.

During the night, he’d apparently tossed and turned so much in his bed that the sheets were all a mess, the blanket itself notably having draped off onto the floor at some point. He assumed he must have gotten _some_ sleep, but he wasn’t _sure_ ; and not being sure about something bothered him.

This wasn’t the only thing, though. By the time 8 o’clock rolled around—his normal time to get up—he found he didn’t want to get up, simply because he didn’t want to have to wake up his brother for the umpteenth time. And again, that bothered him. (What if Sans got mad this time, for some reason?) That thought was so silly. (If he slept in, his father would wake Sans, right?) Why shouldn’t he wake his brother up?

Papyrus figured he was sick, or something, to be feeling this way. Maybe keeping his tears in for so long last night did that somehow. Well, it wasn’t like he had much time to really ponder on it fully, as soon his bedroom door swung open. He shot up, and briefly met his father’s gaze.

“Breakfast is ready,” is all Gaster stated, at first. Then... “There is no need to get your brother up. He’s already downstairs.”

He disappeared from the doorway, and Papyrus stared out into the hallway for a moment, before hopping off his mattress.

By the time Papyrus made it to the kitchen, Gaster had disappeared altogether, and Sans was in the process of heating up some leftover spaghetti. Papyrus watched him pace every once in a while, almost like he was impatient for said spaghetti to be done; he wondered if his brother had somewhere to be, again.

Instead of asking such, however, Papyrus took a seat at the table. Recognizing him to be there, Sans was distracted from his pacing. “Hey,” he greeted him, with his usual grin.

“Hi,” Papyrus said meekly, his mind in a different place. He saw out of the corner of his eyesockets that Sans was trying to catch his gaze, for some reason, but he kept glancing away, unsettled.

“...Something wrong?”

“No,” responded Papyrus, too quickly, maybe. He should probably combat that, to seem more normal. “Where’s Dad?”

Sure, it was a sudden topic change—but thankfully Sans seemed to find nothing wrong with it, and replied, “He’s heading to the lab.”

For some reason, Papyrus frowned deeper at that; but a moment later he tried to suppress it, trying to morph his face back to normal.

“...Sorry we didn’t tell you.”

Papyrus jolted. “Wh-what?” he stammered.

“Last night,” Sans elaborated. “We kinda just... Up and left, without warning?”

“It’s fine.”

Sans frowned at his automatic response. “No, it’s not... That’s why you’re upset, right?”

Papyrus jolted again, at least in his head. Who said he was upset?! _He_ didn’t! He was perfectly fine!

...

Why couldn’t he say so, right now?

The microwave and spaghetti forgotten, Sans took a few steps toward him, obviously going to continue to comfort him when he really didn’t need such. He wanted to _say_ he didn’t need such. He wanted to be his normal, happy self, but he couldn’t just yet. He was tired. (And that was his own fault.)

“Pap,” Sans addressed him, which wasn’t a nickname he used very often, Papyrus noted. “You know it’s okay to be upset about that, right?”

_No. It’s not._

“Dad was... He was in a hurry, but that’s not... That’s not an excuse to do that to you. I should have at least—”

Papyrus interrupted him, his voice cracking, only a little: “It’s fine.”

He knew his father was busy, particularly recently. That was why he didn’t spend as much time with him. That was why he didn’t come to say goodnight anymore. He was just very, very busy. Too busy for him. ~~But not too busy for his brother.~~ And Sans liked the same things Gaster did, so of course he’d be more involved.

It was fine. He was just overthinking!

So finally, Papyrus grinned at Sans, even when he didn’t grin back; finally he found the ~~feigned~~ cheeriness he’d been looking for. “Seriously! It’s fine!” he assured him. “You’ve got a lot of important things to do that don’t include me, I understand!”

~~He’s not as important as those important things.~~

Sans looked like he wanted to say something to contradict him, seeming to not fully believe him—but thankfully the microwave beeped, and he had no choice but to go and retrieve his newly-heated spaghetti.

Relieved, Papyrus fell silent again.

* * *

As Sans sat across from him, he more or less studied Papyrus, in the middle of busying himself with his own choice of food. He pointedly chose not to look at Sans while he scooped up spoonful after spoonful of oatmeal, which wasn’t abnormal in of itself; but the way his hands shook from time to time on the spoon told him his brother was most certainly not fine.

He figured he knew why—and though he was apprehensive about bringing up such, he couldn’t just let it slide, either.

“Hey,” Sans began, and Papyrus glanced at him before turning his eyes to the table. Knowing he was listening all the same, he continued, “Wanna come with me today?”

He watched Papyrus’ brows furrow, and he spared him another glance out of confusion. “Come where?”

“To the lab.” Sans absently twirled his fork in his spaghetti. “I know science’s not really your thing, but I wanna show you stuff. Is that okay?”

“...Yeah,” Papyrus said, after a pause; then he smiled at him, just slightly. “Sure!”

Sans’s grin broadened, before he turned his attention back to the pasta in front of him.


	3. Here We Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next one~
> 
> funnily enough i was listening to a playlist while starting to write this chapter and [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MaPNBugdsd8) came on without me realizing pfft--ironic  
> (i also have literally nothing else to call this chapter apparently so?)
> 
> on another note sorry it's so late, i promised last chapter to work on it asap but uh, that didn't happen haha. i have to be in a certain mindset to write certain stories, if that makes sense--hopefully this chapter suffices though! 
> 
> (and also, here comes an abrupt format/font change, you're welcome--)

Papyrus didn’t like Hotland that much, to be perfectly honest. The air was always much, _much_ too hot, and it was almost _foggy_ too, which was _not_ a good combination. Not to mention, the puzzles there weren’t at all like the ones in Snowdin. They were too hard, and possessed no obvious solution. They had no _class_.

Needless to say, it was very confusing.

The only redeeming quality it had was the bake sale, though he wasn’t sure where it was... And maybe the lab? He didn’t like science-y things, but maybe he should? (Maybe then he wouldn’t have to stay home so much anymore, alone.)

Unfortunately, today seemed to be particularly foggy when he and Sans walked up from the Riverperson’s boat to the entrance of the lab. Of course, his brother took some time practicing knock knock jokes—which didn’t even work, he had to step back a lot to stop them from opening every time he got close because they were sliding, _sensory-powered_ doors—but Papyrus tried not to get too frustrated with him over it. Even so he made a show of coughing, despite not having lungs, just to prove a point about the dry and sticky air. That was another reason he wanted to go inside—the less exposure to Hotland, the better, really.

Despite probably knowing this trick, Sans just grinned back at him before _finally_ opening and entering through the door, notably with a lack of knock knock jokes this time; relieved, Papyrus skittered after him.

As his older brother led them through the lab and to the elevator, Papyrus made sure to take in his surroundings. He’d only been here once before, and it looked much messier now than he imagined it last—probably the result of all that science Sans and his father must be doing. There were certainly a lot of blueprints and papers lying around, with various scribbled numbers and letters on them, and for a moment Papyrus wished he understood what they meant. He couldn’t read to that level just yet, but he hoped he would eventually.

Soon enough both of them made it down to the “basement,” I.E. the True Lab, as Gaster liked to call it. (The king had helped with that one.) The lights overhead were brighter than Papyrus remembered, almost bright enough to burn out—and he swore on his claim to this, as one of the lights appeared to flicker.

And it was cold. Not like Snowdin-cold, but more of a tasteless cold, if that made sense—just plain _cold_ , without any breeze or wind to accompany it. _And_ everything was colorless, just _blank_ , there was no—

He stopped that train of thought, mostly because Sans was already several feet away and starting to look at him funny. After all, he _had_ froze quite abruptly in their path; he should just stop thinking, right? Especially on his level, where he obsessed too much and...

...What was wrong with him?

(A lot of things, something told him.)

But really. He should stop now. He’ll fall behind.

So, instead of lingering any longer, Papyrus darted back to his brother’s side, trying to get himself to refocus.

“You okay?” Sans asked, though Papyrus didn’t quite look at him; not eyesocket-to-eyesocket, anyway.

“Um. Yeah!” he said, maybe a bit too loudly. Maybe too fake in nature. ~~Maybe—~~ “Just...” he went on, trying to sound normal, at least, “Just wondering, about. What you do down here? ...It’s kind of, um... I don’t know. It doesn’t look like it’d be very fun down here.”

Sans snorted, but before he could give a full response they reached a rather large, open room, all but devoid except for a table stocked with what appeared to be jars of sorts. Their father was pacing in front of said table, seeming preoccupied with writing things down on a clipboard he had in his hands.

Upon hearing the footsteps approaching, he upturned his gaze, and settled on his two sons with an almost blank stare. He blinked slowly before saying, “Is there something both of you need?”

Papyrus had already figured he should explain himself. He’d prepared as best he could to speak and yet, somehow, his own voice still surprised him as he started, “U-um, I just wanted—Sans said he could show me what you’ve been doing!”

Gaster’s emotionless, tired expression didn’t falter. Papyrus hesitated.

“...And I wanted to—to see it?” he added, voice breaking off into somewhat of a questioning mumble.

_Because I’m selfish,_ a sudden thought informed him, and his brain jolted to the point he thought he might have jumped physically too. No, that—that wasn’t...

...Why was he _thinking_ that? Where did _that_ come from?

~~But he _was_ selfish, he should be wanting to _help_ , not—~~

Why couldn’t he just—

“Papyrus.”

Hearing his father’s voice, he forced his mind to relax. (Though, he didn’t entirely know why he needed to.) “Yes?”

Gaster blinked again, seeming to ponder his son for a moment. “That’s fine,” he finally stated. “Just be careful, and don’t mess with anything.”

“Oh! Okay!!” Papyrus replied, probably just to fill the silence; but, at least he could be here now, right? Maybe then his thoughts wouldn’t be so weird anymore!

“Hey bro, c’mere,”Sans called to him from the other side of the table, picking up one of the jar-like items as Gaster seemed to go back to writing notes down. Papyrus obliged and stood next to his brother, rocking absentmindedly on the heels of his feet as Sans went on to explain, “To answer your earlier question, these’re what we’ve been working on down here.”

“What are they?” the younger asked curiously, reaching out a finger to poke at the glass of the thing.

“Soul Containers. The king himself wanted Dad to make ‘em,” Sans announced, and Papyrus’s sockets widened.

“Wowie! ...Why?”

To that, Sans shrugged. “I dunno. For souls, I guess. That’s what Dad says anyway.”

Well, _yeah_ , Papyrus thought to himself, that much was obvious, but...

He recalled learning about souls in his first year of school, very early on. Souls were important; they were a part of one’s being and they couldn’t be separated from a monster at all, or contained in any way, unless a powerful force was involved somehow.

And why would you need to contain a soul anyway? What would you use it for...?

He thought about asking, but...

...

Should he... Already know? I mean, Sans didn’t seem too worried about it.

“Oh wait.”

Speaking of whom, Papyrus looked back at him. He had set the container down, though his eye-lights seemed to focus on it intently.

“...I forgot,” he muttered, brows furrowing. “They’re not for monsters, they’re for—”

Gaster set his clipboard down on the table a few inches away, interrupting Sans’s thought process.

“That’s enough for today,” the scientist decided. “We should be heading home now for dinner.”

Sans stared at him for a beat, his own expression mirroring his father’s blank one from earlier—then, it smoothed out just as quickly, as Sans’s grin seemed to steady itself normally again. “Can we order from Grillby’s this time?”

Papyrus forgot his own confusion in favor of the query:

“NO!” he yelped almost immediately, glaring pointedly at his brother—who, of course, just grinned cheekily back at him. “It’s _gross_!”

“You mean, grossly _awesome_.”

“You’ve only been there once, Sans!”

Shaking his head in mock annoyance, Gaster merely nudged the both of them forward, halting their argument and ushering them out of the lab. ~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my excuse for why it ends so abruptly is because it's technically going to be a two-parter and i'm bad at splitting it up lol--


End file.
